Never Goes Away
by Mystic Storys
Summary: Zatanna is worried about Nightwing and is unsure of how, or even if, she can help. Zatanna's POV of Wally's death.


It's been a couple weeks now since... Wally ceased. It's too hard to admit the truth, that he's... dead. For now I just put it in scarab terms; it makes it feel less real.

It's true that ever since him and Artemis had 'retired' and I joined the League we didn't talk much but that didn't change the fact that it still hurt. I considered him, and the rest of the original Team members, as I guess forever-long childhood friends, maybe even family.

Wally West was the true love of one of my best friends, and the best friend of my true love.

I worried about Artemis a lot at the beginning, we all did, and we quickly reached the point of absolutely annoying her. Him being gone obviously still really hurts her, it probably always will, but she's managing to move forward, as Tigress actually, and now she is living her life for his sake. I'm proud of her and admire her strength but even so I'm always a shoulder she can lean on when she needs someone.

Nightwing on the other hand, I have no idea how he is doing but I know it's bad, which is why it's all I can think about. It's pathetic of me really, an ex worrying this much but it's not like I ever stopped loving him or something. I moved forward with the League and he continued moving forward with the Team; there were no hard feeling, we stayed great friends, it was mutual, but still.

No one has seen or heard from Nightwing, well except Batman and Robin, since he said he needed a 'break' from everything. Batman keeps telling us that he's fine and that he just needs some time but that doesn't change how I worry.

I'm pretty sure Batman is worried too but being the stoic type he is I highly doubt he knows how to help. Him and Nightwing have always had a partnership and mutual respect type of relationship, I'm pretty sure they were like that since the beginning, when Nightwing was Robin. He's like Dick's father but it looks like right now he doesn't know how to be there for him; I don't think anyone knows how to help someone who lost their best friend though.

I've nagged Batgirl a bit to check on him, because they have that whole supposed 'friends but sometime more' thing going on. She worries too but she told me that he refused to see or talk to her, or anyone really, and that she didn't want to push him.

I understand not wanting to push him and how giving him time and all that stuff is suppose to help. I'm just worried though that if no one pushes him and we all just keep giving him space that it might be the reason we lose him.

All this, and an intense feeling I can't explain, is why I was finally chose to do something. I decided that I would go to Bludhaven to check on him; I needed to know how he was for myself. There have been a couple of reports of Nightwing's actives so that's a comforting thought; at least he's not completely lost, but it could still be better.

After I zetaed to Bludhaven from Watchtower I quickly headed over to his apartment. When I got there I used the spare key I got from Batman, or more accurately annoyed him to give to me, and invited myself in.

When I walked in it was not at all what I expected, it was absolutely spotless; Dick has many great qualities but staying tidy has never been one of them. I was expecting an absolute disaster zone, especially considering 'lose stereotypes' but everyone has their own way I suppose. The only not so abnormal thing was that the lights were off, he is a member of the Bat Family after all. The only light source was stray rays from the moon creeping in. I couldn't see him anywhere so I just started looking around.

"Dick," I called out, "where are you?" Maybe I should have specified who I am but I'd like to presume that he'd easily figure that out on his own.

"Dick," I called out again after he didn't responded the first time. When no one still answered I decided to go check the bedroom, way more innocent then it sounds.

I knocked on the door as I opened it and called out again, "Dick?"

The room was dark like the rest of the apartments except for one lamplight next to the window, and then I finally saw him. He was sitting in a chair, gazing out the window. He looked lost and frail and so sad, which was far from the Dick Grayson I know, who presented himself as strong and dependable and full of life.

As I walked over to him I softly called his name, this time he finally broke his gaze from the window. When he laid eyes on me he answered, "Zee," in a soft, hallow voice. Then he turned back to stare out the window as he said, "What are you… You shouldn't be here," his voice still sounded empty.

When I reached his chair I bent down in front of him. He looked down at me with his deep blue eyes that use to be filled with so much light but we're now dimmed and hurt; the person in front of me was worse than a hollow shell, he was a broken boy. Seeing him like this hurt me and at that moment I had made my resolve; I wasn't going to leave him, not like this. I took his hands in mine and kindly but assertively said, "I'm not going anywhere."


End file.
